


Get Me

by Poorhuni



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 12:11:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8013244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poorhuni/pseuds/Poorhuni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: “Get Me” my character rescuing yours.<br/>Includes OC written by arkhamsirensong on tumblr.<br/> tw: body horror, tw: gore, tw: eyes, tw: tongues</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Me

The Asylum, bad enough under normal circumstances - was like hell on earth now. Plunged into near darkness by emergency lighting, sirens wailing, labyrinthine as ever but now with an added edge of dangerous uncertainty. There had been some kind of break out, clearly, and it must’ve been a bad one because Harleen’s key card was no longer working - meaning they’d gone into lock down. An attempt to stop the crazy spilling out into Gotham - but leaving her and everyone else inside Arkham, essentially trapped.

She could, however, move about anywhere she didn’t need a key card - minimum security - for example. She’d ditched her heels, padding silently through the dim corridors, pausing before every corner, heart pounding, straining to hear in the occasionally broken silence.

Lots of doors had been locked - probably holding staff and patients in for their own safety, waiting for it to be over. That’s what Harleen needed - somewhere safe to stay, preferably with company, even more preferable someone who knew what was happening.

Creeping along, she just about heard it - the signs of a very quiet struggle ahead. She inched closer, pausing at the corner, listening.

“Oh naughty, naughty doctor. You were gonna sticky stick us with this, hmm?” A voice crooned. Harleen slipped her compact mirror out, opening it silently and angling it to see around the corner. A patient - maximum security from the look of his uniform - was actually kneeling on top of a doctor, female from her frame, attire and the noises she made as she wiggled beneath him trying to knock him off balance and escape. Neither of them were facing Harleen.

“Where should we sticky stick you then? Hmm?”

“Avery, ple-” Harleen recognised that voice, even as it was prematurely silenced.

“No!” The patient roared, and there was the sound of flesh hitting flesh. “No talking dirty bird. We are talking, not you. Can’t use your mind tricks if you can’t talk… Maybe we’ll stab you in the tongue. Yes. Put your tongue to sleep dirty bird? Hmm? Watch it go all the way through.”

Harleen, holding her breath, crept around the corner. She was about to do something very stupid - but she couldn’t leave Juliet here - by the time someone else showed up to help. Well.

She moved closer, hardly daring to breathe, but luckily, Avery was keeping up sing-song monologue of his plans, voice drowning out the sound of Harleen advancing.

“Or maybe into your eyes. Yes, yes, yes. Plunge it in and then fill them ‘til they pop.” He chuckled, leaning down close to Juliet, studying the needle closely. “Is it long enough to get to your heart?” He crooned. “That would stop you, birdy, that would stop you forever.”

Harleen dug her hand into the pocket of her white coat, pulling out a syringe of her own, popping the cap off the top. It looked like he’d gotten Juliet on the floor somehow, twisted her arms behind her back and was currently kneeling on them to pin her. It was an effective pin, obviously, because Juliet was trapped - and probably in quite a bit of pain with his full body weight bearing down on her. But it looked precarious, he could easily be shoved off by someone else.

“No no no. Not long enough for that. We shall put it here…” He had moved to push the needle against her neck, or shoulder, Harleen couldn’t see. “It’ll go up this bumpy bit straight into your brain - then we can stop you properly. Say good night, birdy.”

Harleen plunged her own syringe into him, pressing down on the plunger. Avery let out a scream of rage, forgetting Juliet, twisting to look at Harleen, slashing at the air with his syringe, but missing her.

“You bitch!” He shrieked. “You’ve stabbed us! You’ve stabbed us!” He was slurring as he stood, advanced two steps and then toppled to the ground, the sedative already beginning to take hold.

“Juliet.” Harleen skirted the fallen man going to her fellow doctor's side. “Are you, are you okay?”


End file.
